Just inside Daddy’s garden shed, beside the door, was a nail — a nail in a sure place reserved for Daddy’s cap. His baseball cap stained with sweat and garden soil could always be found hanging on that nail.
Unless, of course, the cap was on his precious bald head.
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For as long as I could remember, that nail had been there and for as long as I could remember, Dad’s cap hung there as well.
A nail in a sure place.
The Lord is like this — a nail in a sure place, a place we can hang our hat, so to speak. We can depend on Him to be there always. We can trust in His capable hands. His covenant love binds us to Him from everlasting to everlasting.
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